


No Use Denying

by neverafuckgiven



Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Birthday Fluff, First Time, Mutual Pining, Not Actually Unrequited Love, Out of Character, Pining, Polyamory, Threesome - F/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-27
Updated: 2020-04-27
Packaged: 2021-03-02 03:47:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,656
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23868490
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/neverafuckgiven/pseuds/neverafuckgiven
Summary: It’s the night before Jaskier’s birthday when he gets drunk and mentions it in front of Geralt and Yennefer. He doesn’t mean to, of course, but, you know, he’s four cups in, feeling a bit sorry for himself, and he doesn’t even realize they’re there. He’s trying to wax poetic to the bartender, which is what one does when they feel this way, and possibly chat up the lovely blonde woman next to him. She makes a comment about helping him celebrate when both she and the bartender make themselves scarce.*It's another year of helpless pining and Jaskier just wants to forget about it all and enjoy his birthday. But, of course, that's not going to happen.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion/Yennefer z Vengerbergu | Yennefer of Vengerberg, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Yennefer z Vengerbergu | Yennefer of Vengerberg, Jaskier | Dandelion/Yennefer z Vengerbergu | Yennefer of Vengerberg
Comments: 9
Kudos: 487





	No Use Denying

**Author's Note:**

> I tried to proofread it. I'm tired. I have writer's block. 
> 
> Here you go.

It’s the night before Jaskier’s birthday when he gets drunk and mentions it in front of Geralt and Yennefer. He doesn’t mean to, of course, but, you know, he’s four cups in, feeling a bit sorry for himself, and he doesn’t even realize they’re there. He’s trying to wax poetic to the bartender, which is what one does when they feel this way, and possibly chat up the lovely blonde woman next to him. She makes a comment about helping him celebrate when both she and the bartender make themselves scarce.

He’s confused why until Yennefer sits on his left and Geralt sits on his right. Then Jaskier chuckles darkly and goes to finish his fifth cup. Yennefer takes it from him and drinks it in one go. That’s fine. Jaskier still has his sixth cu- Geralt takes his sixth cup and drinks it. That is not fine.

“I hope you plan on reembellishing me for those.” Jaskier stops. “Reimbursing.” Yes, that’s the word he wants. “That was very expensive-“

“It was watered down, overpriced Cintran ale and it tasted awful.” Yennefer says very loudly, seemingly scolding the bartender. When Jaskier turns to his right, Geralt is glaring at the blonde, an actual glare and not his pretend one he sometimes uses when he thinks Jaskier’s being clever but he doesn’t want Jaskier to know it. “And you’ve drank quite enough, bard.”

“I have not! In fact, this fine man was about to pour me another!” The words come out very clearly and not the least bit slurred and Jaskier is very proud of that; the bartender, obviously jealous of how composed he is, does not, in fact, pour him another. Or maybe it’s because both Yennefer and Geralt look ready to skin someone alive. “Don’t be mean to my new friends!” Jaskier smacks Geralt on the chest and Geralt doesn’t even have the courtesy to look even slightly pained; his forehead crinkles in that way that means he’s amused and so Jaskier turns his wrath to Yennefer instead. “That goes for you too, sorceresh!” 

He spends the next thirty seconds trying to correctly pronounce sorceress, which is a little embarrassing, and Yennefer is very clearly trying to glare even with the corner of her mouth twitching. Jaskier knows that means she wants to smile. He knows them both very well, you see, Yennefer less so since they haven’t been travelling together as long as he and Geralt, but once Jaskier’s in love, he throws himself into it. It was that way with Geralt, then the Countess, and now with Yennefer. Well, Yennefer and Geralt at the same time, which is a lovely image, but also not.

It’s all very complicated and distracting and heartbreaking because Yennefer and Geralt are destined to be together. It’s the sort of love story that Jaskier would write ballads about. He’s not exaggerating; he has written their story into a ballad and it’s quite popular which is awful because he had written it to get rid of his feelings but now that song is fucking everywhere and all of his feelings are getting thrown back in his face.

He was trying to explain all of this to the bartender and then to the blonde because it’s even worse because it’ll be his birthday and he’s going to have to spend it desperately in love with two very attractive but emotionally inept people that will never give him a second glance and he was hoping to spend it with a very attractive woman that didn’t remind him of Geralt or Yennefer, but of course he can’t even do that.

“Don’t do that.” Jaskier blinks and feels Geralt slip his hand between the wood counter and Jaskier’s forehead. Apparently, he’s been banging his head against the counter in his frustration.

“I will do what I want, sir!” He tries to move Geralt’s hand without lifting his head. It doesn’t work well.

“As much fun as this is, it’s actually not. Geralt.” Jaskier sighs because Yennefer is calling her witcher to heel and they’ll be going back upstairs now. He’ll finally be alone so he can wallow.

Except instead the world moves very quickly and keeps moving a moment longer than it’s supposed to. When everything stops, Jaskier realizes he’s been scooped up and tucked against Geralt’s chest like a sleepy child. He can hear Yennefer’s heels clacking against the floor and Geralt follows behind her, moving towards the stairs. “Help! I am being kidnapped!” He pauses. “Bardnapped!”

He sets his chin on Geralt’s shoulder and waves goodbye to the beautiful blonde at the bar. She waves back, smiling but looking a bit confused. He sticks his tongue out at the bartender, who flips him the bird. Very childish.

They make it back to their rooms despite Jaskier’s insistence that they go the other way back to the bar and Geralt gently sets Jaskier on the bed as Yennefer shuts the door behind them.

“I will not stand for this!” Jaskier gets to his feet to leave, but decides to sit back down because their room is defective and is spinning alarmingly.

“You’re going to have a headache tomorrow.” Geralt has him by the back of his neck though whether it’s to keep him upright or to keep him from leaving, Jaskier’s not sure; he’s closed his eyes but he knows Geralt’s fond voice when he hears it. He doesn’t need to see the small smile to know it’s there.

“It serves him right. He’s not a child, Geralt. He’s a grown man. He should have a little self restraint.” Jaskier opens his eyes and wants to protest because that is just unfair, but Yennefer’s pulling a small vial out of her bag. She adds it to a cup and hands it to Geralt. “Make him drink that.”

Geralt’s tilts Jaskier’s head back with a firm grip. “Open your mouth.” And Jaskier’s sad that he’s so drunk because he’s had this fantasy before, but his cock is officially checked out for the night. So he opens his mouth and drinks whatever concoction they’re giving him. Hopefully he’ll remember this tomorrow. “This for that headache he deserves?”

Yennefer doesn’t turn from the dresser; she just keeps pulling off her jewelry. “Do you want to listen to him sulk the whole day?” Some of the drink slips down Jaskier’s jaw as he stares at Yennefer’s bare neck. When Geralt takes the cup away, he huffs and swipes away the spill with his thumb. “And you’re any better?”

“I. Am right here.” Jaskier taps Geralt’s chest. His very firm chest. Ow.

“Get some sleep.” Geralt lowers him down, tucking the pillow under his head and then pulling his shoes off. 

He’s going to make a devastating comment about Geralt getting some sleep instead when Yennefer lets her dress fall to the floor. It takes a moment to recover from that, but he does, like a true champion, and that’s when Geralt starts pulling off his own clothes.

“Not fair. Drunk. No sexy.” He takes the pillow and tries to smother himself. It has the added benefit of blocking out the sexiness. Not the laughter though. Gods, he loves them so much.

He doesn’t manage to smother himself because he wakes up the next morning, blessedly without a headache, and with all of his memories of the night before. He’s not sure the second part is a good thing. He puts the pillow back over his face to hide his blush. 

“If you’re trying to kill yourself, you’re not doing a very good job.” It’s muffled, but Yennefer’s quips are unmistakable. “Would you like me to help you? It would involve boiling you alive.”

“Yes, please and thank you.” It doesn’t come out very clearly since his mouth is full of pillow, but he likes to think he gets the point across. 

The pillow is lifted and Jaskier blinks, adjusting to the sudden change in lighting. Yennefer is sitting down on the edge of the bed, looking down at him, decked in that high collar black dress with the low back that he’s dreamed about a few times. “If we leave you alone for the day, are you going to be alive when we get back or do you need a chaperone?” 

“I am perfectly capable of taking care of myself whilst you two go gallivanting.” Jaskier’s not pouting. His birthday. Alone. He didn’t used to care about things like this. He rolls over just so she can’t see how much it bothers him. He doesn’t know if she’d care or not. “I know you’re going to get hungry, but try to refrain from eating the townspeople. Maybe you and Geralt can eat rabbits over an open fire. Very romantic.”

“Mind your tone, bard.” Geralt’s growl is playful, used to their back and forth by now; he surprises Jaskier by grabbing his ankle and dragging him down the bed with one quick jerk. Jaskier yelps and flips over to glare at them both, though he does soften when he sees smiles on both of their faces.

It’s the warm feeling that makes Jaskier clear his throat and wave them out. “Go! Go have your romantic day away! I promise I will stay out of trouble.” His throat feels like it has a lump in it, but he is a performer at heart. He flashes a charming smile at them.

Yennefer and Geralt share a look between them. Jaskier looks away, flopping back down so he can stare at the ceiling. He doesn’t get to for long. The pillow is smacked down over his face and he flails a bit before he manages to sit up.

“You know I hate portals.” Geralt grumbles; he follows Yennefer through, though, and Jaskier watches them go and the portal closes behind them.

He lays back down and tugs the blanket back over himself. He’s going to mope for a bit. Then he’ll get up.

*

Jaskier composes for a little while and once he realizes he’s acting like a spoiled child, he leaves to grab food and wander around the town, picking up a few things. He sees the blonde from last night and pauses, considering approaching her. Ultimately, he decides against it. She’s a beautiful woman, but it’s like comparing a candle to the sun; there is no one that could compare to Yennefer and Geralt and it’d be pointless to try.

He just has to let this run its course. He doesn’t even want to imagine the travesty that would happen if he were to actually say something to either of them. Jaskier laughs as he heads back to the inn and back to the room. It’s past midday and he’ll probably be able to enjoy a nap-

He takes three steps inside the room and kicks the door shut without turning away from the lovely sight in front of him. Yennefer is sprawled out on her back on his bed. Naked. Her hair is messy and the sheets are rumpled; the room smells like sex and Jaskier shifts his bag in front of his cock. This isn’t happening. 

She props herself up on her elbows, looks at him like she wants to devour him, and raises an eyebrow. “Don’t be shy, bard. Come to bed.” 

Jaskier is tempted, severely so. “I am deeply flattered, of course, but mostly concerned because you are very clearly-“ He takes a step back and hits hard flesh; Geralt’s massive hand comes up to grab the front of his throat and he practically yelps. “I wasn’t going to-“

“Why not?” Jaskier’s breath hitches as he feels what must surely be Geralt’s teeth dragging on against his jaw and then he whines when Geralt’s other hand dips inside his trousers.

It all devolves rather quickly after that. The day is spent between them, desperately trying to keep track of whose hands are touching him. He’s pushed into so many different positions he’s almost dizzy with it. He’s on his knees, his mouth on Yennefer’s cunt and Geralt’s cock in his ass; then she’s riding him and Geralt’s fucking his mouth and they refuse to touch him. He could die here in this bed and never regret it because he’ll die with the taste of them on his lips.

The dust finally settles and he’s on his back, staring up at the ceiling, thoroughly exhausted, but Geralt and Yennefer are moving in the room. Yennefer laughs at something and he hears Geralt growl and Jaskier thinks ‘oh no’. It’s not out of his system. In fact, it’s even worse and his heart’s a little heavy. Everything is going to go back to normal and he’s never going to be over it. 

“Better not be asleep.” Geralt, just like this morning, grabs Jaskier’s ankle and drags him down the bed; Jaskier sits up and tries to pout playfully instead of the way he really, really wants to. He gets a kiss, surprisingly tender, from Geralt and then Yennefer, who bites his lip playfully.

“Enough. The poor boy can’t keep up. Besides, this is the perfect time for gifts.” Yennefer gives Geralt a gentle push and hands Jaskier a box.

“Gifts.” He takes it with a confused frown. 

“For your birthday.” Yennefer’s sitting comfortably in front of dresser and Geralt’s looming next to her, looking nervous for the first time in a long time. Yen, in her own way, is nervous, too, but hiding it much better. 

There are several gifts, apparently, and they range from useful to impractical, from writing paper only he can use to a few sex devices he’s never seen before. They watch him open each one; Yennefer seems engrossed in brushing her hair, but keeps eying him in the mirror, and Geralt’s not even pretending not to watch him, his gold eyes darting from Jaskier’s expression to the gift and back again.

“Why now?” Jaskier finally asks, setting all of the presents aside. 

“As I understand it, birthdays are only once a year.” Yen quips, setting her brush aside.

“You know that’s not-“ He stops. “You two don’t celebrate your birthdays?” Geralt shrugs. “That is a travesty that will be rectified in the future, but not what I meant. You two have never seemed interested before. What’s changed?”

“You said you loved us.” Yen turns, serious now. “Do you remember? Last night. You told the bartender and the blonde and then you told us. Attraction is one thing. Love is another entirely.” She looks at Geralt and then back to him. 

“It is.” Jaskier swallows. “I am in love with you, both of you, and I don’t know if I can go back to the way it was before. So you have to tell me now if today was your idea of a birthday pres-“

“We want to do this again.” Geralt’s voice is rough and low and cautious like maybe he wasn’t supposed to be saying anything and, judging by the expression on Yen’s face, maybe he wasn’t. “We’ve wanted to do this for a long time.”

“You’ve been so busy looking at us that you haven’t seen us looking back.” She flips her hair over her shoulder. “I swear, Geralt, the one time I listen to you and look where it gets us. We could have been doing this ages ago.”

“Better to have a plan.” He growls and Jaskier laughs.

“I think I’m recovered now.” He leans back, delighting in the way both of their gazes lock on him. “And my birthday isn’t over yet.”

Yennefer and Geralt share a look between them and then pounce on him, knocking him back to the bed. 

It’s the best birthday Jaskier’s had in a long time. (They pick birthdays for Geralt and Yennefer the next day, still in bed, eating breakfast and getting crumbs everywhere and Jaskier realizes that Yen was right; for every moment he spent looking, they were looking back.)

**Author's Note:**

> Not my usual fare so I hope I did okay.


End file.
